


Our Last Snowfall

by DVwrites



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Fluff, I love yall please dont beat me up, M/M, Modern AU, look it's robb stark of course he dies, major illness implication, sadfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21617359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DVwrites/pseuds/DVwrites
Summary: Luckily, Robb speaks again. “I’ve seen how quiet Jon is - my mum cries every single time she enters this room. I’ve had goodbyes with everyone and it never gets easier, but if you can’t say goodbye to me, you’re going to hate every second that you didn’t and I’m never going to get to say it to you again.”The band of tenseness between them hangs taunt in the air, and Theon’s resolve lasts long enough for him to look back at Robb, shifting his hand along the covers until it reaches Robb’s hand.Their fingertips touch gently.“Ok, but I get to choose how to say goodbye,”
Relationships: Jon Snow/Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy/Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	Our Last Snowfall

“No doctor for once?” 

Robb perks up at the noise in his doorway that isn’t the repeated beeps and familiar hospital esque sounds he’s gotten used to. Theon doesn’t even knock. The door merely closes behind him, and there’s a dim light to the room, having been given the courtesy of shaded lamps once his headaches started to grow worse.

So when Theon moves to his bed, Robb’s eyes have to adjust to his outline, and his familiar facial features in less detail than he’s used to. It hardly helps that everything being processed by his left retina is a blur. 

He sits as if Robb had already given him express permission to, dipping into the bed by putting his weight on it, by his side. 

But Robb doesn’t care. It’s Theon. Any less would have been a hallucination. 

Which it wasn’t, he thinks. Because when he reaches out and puts a shaky hand to the crook of Theon’s arm, and clasps so hard, tethering him to him, it feels real. And the smell - beneath whatever cologne the other has clearly splashed onto himself in haste is the salt smell, like the cold tide. 

It doesn’t bypass Theon to notice the way in which Robb grabs him, and he can feel the lump rising in his own throat. 

Here he was, facing the sense of mortality he always had to face when visiting his ‘brother in arms’, the one and only of his kind of person. Theon wasn’t even close to ready to let that go, so he wore his usual face, made up of ‘everything’s fine’, and ‘I’m here’, and ‘you’ll be okay’, and even if he knew Robb could see through it, he still couldn’t shake it from the way his lips curled up into a half-smile. 

“You look a little less like shit than I thought you would,” He quips as if it’s easy, as if he can’t see Robb shaking that kind of way you only get when it’s right beneath your skin, just unsubtle enough to notice. Theon quirks up an eyebrow. “Guess all those blood transfusions are working out great for you,” 

Robb snorts. 

“You’d know how those blood transfusions were going if you’d visited these last few weeks,” He says, and there’s a slight weight to the way his words hang in the air between them. 

It’s obvious what he means, and Theon ignores the way guilt swells in his chest in favour of looking over one of the nearby machines, which beeped away dutifully, keeping Robb alive in some way or another. 

_ Keeping Robb alive,  _ he muses, almost bitterly, not at all at the actual machine but entirely at the situation they were in. 

Robb pulls him from his brief thoughts by squeezing his hand over Theon’s arm, and Theon isn’t at all surprised at the lack of strength there but is startled by the purpose in it, like Robb knew what he was taking too long thinking on and needed to pull him back to this moment. 

Be present, he reminds himself. It’s the least he deserves. 

So Theon quickly pulls himself together and shifts his body further onto the bed, careful not to knock anything that might hurt but clumsy enough to make Robb wince as his previous aches became a lot more prominent. 

“So, where are we gonna go when you get out of here? I’m thinking we need to break out, meet Jon at dawn or something, run away for a little.” 

There’s a pause, and Robb speaks quietly but forcefully. “Theon-,” 

“Or forget Jon and his dumb horse face. You and me, we’ll-,” 

“Theon, I’m not making it out of here.” 

Theon frowns, before slapping that stupid smirk back on and, through the pain that rippled through him at Robb’s words, laughs. He laughs one whole dumb laugh, and it comes out with an edge to it. 

“Not with that attitude,” 

Now, Robb smiles a little, weakly, but he persists, and Theon hates that he persists. 

“I thought that’s why you came. That’s what I told everyone else to do, to come say goodbye, come  _ talk  _ to me,” 

“I came to talk-,” 

“But not about this, right?” Robb shakes his head, slowly. “Theon, you know what’s going to happen,”

Theon’s smirk has long since faded into an upset thin line that refused to budge, brows knitting. It was as if he couldn’t decide whether or not to fight back the pressure on the bridge of his nose that indicated what he always hated doing - crying. Instead, an uglier emotion took its place, and an angry kind of denial rose like bile at the back of his throat. 

“If you think I’m here to say goodbye, you can fucking forget about it,” 

“Theon,” 

“Hey, look,” He moved himself off of Robb’s bed, avoiding eye contact, voice almost hoarse in his attempt to keep himself under control. “I don’t believe in this whole saying goodbye shit, it’s just gonna make me look like an arsehole when you’re fine again,”

“I’m not going to be fine again! That’s what I’m trying to get through to you!” Robb feels his voice raising with Theon’s, unwilling to back down on this. “Theon, I  _ need  _ you to accept that that’s a fact,” 

There’s a moment of quiet and as Theon opens his mouth again, Robb shuts him down. 

“I need you to be okay with that, because if you’re not okay with it, I don’t know what I’m going to do,” 

“Shit,” Theon curses, sitting down again on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. His voice hitches and he swallows it. 

Luckily, Robb speaks again. “I’ve seen how quiet Jon is - my mum cries every single time she enters this room. I’ve had goodbyes with everyone and it never gets easier, but if you can’t say goodbye to me, you’re going to hate every second that you didn’t and I’m never going to get to say it to you again,” 

The band of tenseness between them hangs taunt in the air, and Theon’s resolve lasts long enough for him to look back at Robb, shifting his hand along the covers until it reaches Robb’s hand.

Their fingertips touch gently. 

“Ok, but I get to choose how to say goodbye,” 

“What?” 

“You heard me,” Theon manages a mimic of his previous smirk, a little more genuine on his features, if not more watery than it should have been. 

He gets up, grabs his coat. “Meet me at the entrance of wing C ten minutes after visiting time ends. I’ll grab Jon,” 

“Theon-“ Robb tries, but by the time Theon hears him, he’s already halfway out the door, and simply throws him a look that broached no argument. 

Robb lets himself slump backwards into the elevated bed and sighs. Who truly knew what Theon was up to this time, and he worried for his friend - all his friends, his family - but most of all, he worried that he was running out of time for Theon to execute whatever he was going to do. 

—-

“You showed up after all,” 

Theon is there, waiting, after all of that. Like he knew Robb would show up, bedraggled and clearly putting in a tremendous amount of effort to stay put together, wearing his biggest coat to stave off the cold he always felt these days, but present. 

He’s not alone; he’s somehow convinced Jon, who doesn’t look entirely like a believer in this grand plan, but for whatever reason, agreed to come anyway, who stood still with his hands tucked into his jeans, wearing a coat with too much fur. He looks like he’s holding his breath, waiting for Robb to collapse on him. 

Robb doesn’t do that to him. He tries his best to hold his own centre of gravity and keep it towards the ground, but not too close, lest he actually fall over. 

He offers them both a tired smile. “Yeah, guess I did,” 

Jon interrupts the flow of conversation before it even gets off the ground. “How are we going to get him past security? Did you think that far, or did you just get ahead of yourself again, Theon?” 

Theon flexes his fingers and his grin is apparent, even if it wasn’t nearly as broad as his usual brand of smirks. “We walk really fast past them, with purpose. They’re gonna think we mean to get out, and that’s how we’ll do it.”

Jon pulls a face. “Really?” 

“Bloody hell, Jon, it’s like you’ve never had to make a quick exit before.” 

“I haven’t,”

“Well your boring life aside,” Theon continues and Jon barely has the energy to bristle at his comment, gesturing out towards the exit of the ward. “We’re losing time, we can’t steal him away for long, duh.” 

Jon simply nods this time, and Robb can’t help but smile at the familiarity of their trio and the bickering that ensued. That was by far better than their mournful faces.

“Lead the way then, guys,” He joins in, and pulls the coat further around himself as they head off, into the night. 

—-

When they get to the park area only a mile or so from the hospital, having driven in Theon’s ‘cool’ but probably more beat up than it should be car all the way there, they’d all piled out of the vehicle and Robb took a moment to take in the crispness of the cold air, the darkness and its contrast to the far away stars littering the sky, washed out by too much city light, but still beautiful all the same. 

He looked up at them like a wounded dog, understanding in its last moments that to see something beautiful before it went into that dark night was a priceless commodity. 

Maybe he’d looked for too long, because before he could really process that feeling, Jon was nudging him, holding in his arms a few blankets, whilst Theon moved past him with a filled to bursting bag. 

Robb raised an eyebrow quizzically. “What are the food and blankets for?” 

“Picnic,” Jon shrugged. “It was Theon’s idea,” 

“You’re too fucking right it was, and it’s still a good idea,” Theon shot back as he grabbed one of Jon’s blankets and laid it out on the floor by a particularly large tree, having dropped the bag to the side of it already. 

Jon immediately went to help out by pulling some of the items from said bag, and Robb looked on with wonderment, with a withheld sadness and with a great sense of gratefulness towards the two, who, upon finishing messing around with the blankets and food, stood up and ceremoniously announced that it was done, only to argue over who did it first. 

Robb wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry a little, too. 

Finally, he agreed to actually sit down and managed to do so with a little aid, setting up his back against the tree. 

It wasn’t insanely comfortable, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care much at that moment. It was comfortable enough that in his tiredness, he could feel his eyelids becoming heavy. 

Jon and Theon joined him, Theon gesturing out to all the food laid before them in packaged containers. 

“Ta-da,” He offered up, before rolling his shoulders into a shrug. “I mean, it’s all hospital food, but we tried. We just bought out most of the cafe,” 

The corners of Jon’s lips twitched. “I said we should have grabbed mcdonalds on the way here,” 

Theon set about making himself comfortable next to Robb, and Jon followed suite on the other side of him. “Yeah, you win this one, Snow, but next time, have the mcdonalds idea before I buy a shit ton of cafeteria food,” 

Jon snorts, and they go quiet for a moment. 

Robb thinks, in that small pocket of time, of how lucky he is to love and have been loved. How precious these small wonders were. Mostly, he just felt lucky to have spent this time with them.

There’s more laughter now, coming from the two of them as they continue to have a back and forth between them, and Robb lets it fade into nothingness. 

Theon’s laughter lingers momentarily, hanging in the air, though not nearly as heavy as the silence that followed it. 

“Hey, Robb,” His voice lifts. “Panini or a packet of crisps? Your choice,” 

Nothing follows. Theon’s gut knows before he has time to really register it - it dawns on him like a too bright sunrise, that burns on contact with his eyes. 

He lifts a hand to touch Robb’s, hear’s Jon’s voice echoing his. 

“Robb,” He says, urgently. “ _ Robb, _ ” He manages out as his eyes meet Theon’s. 

_ “Robb!”  _

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> THIS WAS A FIC FROM LIKE LAST YEAR when I found myself balls deep in GOT again, and as usual, needed to vent some stuff through sadfic! I hope you guys liked it - I may work up another chapter and retcon the sads(tm) or make them worse but we'll see! 
> 
> The title of this fic came from The Last Snowfall - Vienna Teng, which was the mood for this fic and hurts my heart deeply : ( 
> 
> Thanks for looking! Have a lovely day!


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